


fate and cramped rooms

by fujifilms



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, riza joins northern command at fort briggs instead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 09:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fujifilms/pseuds/fujifilms
Summary: A creak from the floor sounded from behind her. Riza spun around, hand already pulling the gun from her holster, aiming it at the source of the sound. At an intruder.The room was still dark, Riza hadn’t flipped the light switch on yet, and in this situation she couldn’t turn around and turn on the lights. She waited for her eyes to adjust.Lounging on the standard steel military issued chair beside the standard military issued desk was Major General Armstrong. Who wasn’t looking very impressed at the gun pointed at her head.





	fate and cramped rooms

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this mostly for myself but I felt like someone out there might enjoy it. Not a lot of Riza/Olivier content which is a shame. Their dynamic is fun to imagine and write. Also please excuse any mistakes when it comes to military ranking/promotions. This will probably be a multi-chapter fic. Let me know what you think!

“Welcome to the military, Private Hawkeye.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

The officer sitting in the desk in front of Riza regarded her for a few seconds. He picked up the pen sitting beside the stack of papers that were probably her testing scores. Riza glanced at the plaque on his desk. Lieutenant General Grumman. 

 

A sigh made its way from Grumman. He shifted forwards and propped his elbows on his desk, idly spinning the pen in his right hand. “Now,” he paused again as if waiting for a reaction from Riza but she made no move. “It’s customary to ask our new recruits where they would like to be stationed. As you may already know, these requests are almost never taken into account.” Grumman said, laughing and leaned back into his chair. “But,” He picked up the topmost sheet from the stack with his other hand and held it up. “One hundred percent in shooting accuracy. One hundred percent in theoretical combat. One hundred percent in hand to hand combat. History of combat. Practical combat. Laws and regulations. Et cetera, et cetera. Do you see where I’m going with this, Private Hawkeye?”

 

“I think so, sir.”

 

Grumman dropped the paper back onto his desk and looked up at Riza. His lips upturned. “It’s unprecedented, Private.”

 

“Thank you, sir.”

 

“What’s your answer, Private? We’re making an exception.” Grumman laughed a bit and smiled at Riza. “Family you’d like to stay close to? A boyfriend?”

 

Riza shook her head. “If I may,” Grumman nodded his head, urging for Riza to continue. “I’d like to be stationed at Fort Briggs.”

 

Grumman froze. “Fort Briggs?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Are you absolutely sure, Private?”

 

“I am.” Riza said confidently, all trepidation gone since the moment she had decided to sign up for the military. The moment she heard about Major General Armstrong.

 

If Grumman was displeased with her response, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was intrigued with the way everything seemed to be progressing. “All right, Private.” He pressed a stamp down on one of the forms littering his desk and handed it over to Riza. “We’ll let Northern command know. Thank you for deciding to join.” Grumman stood up from his chair and Riza took that as a queue to stand up as well, wincing a bit when the chair scraped against the floor with her haste. She took the hand presented to her and shook it.

 

“Thank you, sir, I appreciate it.”

 

Grumman’s head tilted to the side slightly as he smiled. His other hand clapped over Riza’s. “Good luck, Private.”

 

* * *

 

Someone should have warned Riza about the cold. Well they did, now that she thought of it. Both Braeda and Havoc told her she was going to freeze her ass off but Riza had never felt this degree of coldness seeping into her bones in her entire life. 

 

She decided wasn’t going to let this affect her. She stopped shivering.

 

“H-how are you not c-cold?”

 

Riza glanced over to where the voice was coming from. All eyes on the small carriage were focused on her. All of the fresh recruits that were going to be stationed at Briggs. The question was directed at her.

 

“I don’t mind it.” She glanced back at the slowly moving scenery of snowy trees and distant mountain ranges. 

 

Someone next to her scoffed. “Great. Another ice queen.”

 

* * *

 

The cold never went away, the chill settling deep inside, making it almost painful to move. But Riza ignored it. She spread the white sheet over the small bed pushed against the back wall of the room. Normally there would be a large barrack of bunks for the new recruits but due to the fact that this was Fort Briggs and women still rarely joined the military, double rooms were offered to the women. Only three women, including Riza, came in with the carriage of new recruits, in comparison to the seven men.

 

Riza glanced at the bare bed in the other corner and sighed. She was never very close to anyone at home and it seemed like that would be the way here in Briggs as well. Not that it would really affect her or her performance.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe they assigned you to Briggs. I thought you were going to at least end up in the East with me. I’ll see if i can do anything about this, Hawkeye.” Roy rattled off over the staticky phone line.

 

Riza sighed. “I actually requested to be assigned here, sir.”

 

_ “You- what? Are you joking?” _

 

“I’m not.”

 

Roy harrumphed.  _ “You do know that Armstrong spawn is going to run that place to the ground, don’t you-” _

 

“Not from what I’ve heard.”

 

_ “Of course you’re on her side.” _

 

Riza suppressed a laugh. “I know you two have had run ins-”

 

_ “That’s what they call beating me down into humiliation and hiding now? Run ins?” _

 

She actually let out a laugh this time. “Whatever you say, sir.”

 

The line was quiet for a few seconds. When Roy spoke again, his voice had sobered down considerably.  _ “I knew you would end up there, somehow. Like fate I guess.” _

 

Riza swallowed and took a breath. “Goodbye, Major.”

 

_ “Bye, Hawkeye.” _

 

* * *

 

The first few months at Briggs were uneventful. Despite her testing scores, no one paid notice to Riza. She did the petty work assigned to her and the other recruits around the fort with no complaints and in return, she experienced no difficulties with any of the commanding officers.

 

She was being left alone, which she was rather thankful for in the moment. Her peers were constantly being berated for their performance, but as was expected from newer recruits. 

 

Three months into living at Briggs, Riza still had never seen the reason she chose this post. She hadn’t been hoping for anything special. Her reason was deeply internalized but the fact of the matter was, she wanted to be under the best command in the military. Riza needed to feel useful. Major General Armstrong made everyone in Northern command feel useful.

 

* * *

 

Riza unlocked the door to her room, fingers almost fumbling around with the key. Her fingers felt stiff and useless from the ice scraping she and her peers were subjected to for the better part of a month. 

 

She slipped her boots off before treading inside and shut the door after herself. Snow stuck to the fur collar of the coat she and everyone donned when working outside and she brushed off the small clumps of ice and snowflakes. Riza slowly took off her coat and hung it up on the hanger which rested on a hook on the back of the door. 

 

A creak from the floor sounded from behind her.

 

Riza spun around, hand already pulling the gun from her holster, aiming it at the source of the sound. At an intruder.

 

The room was still dark, Riza hadn’t flipped the light switch on yet, and in this situation she couldn’t turn around and turn on the lights. She waited for her eyes to adjust.

 

Lounging on the standard steel military issued chair beside the standard military issued desk was Major General Armstrong. Who wasn’t looking very impressed at the gun pointed at her head.

 

Riza quickly holstered the gun and brought herself into a saluting position. She barked out a quick “Major General.” in greeting and stood stock still. Riza took in Armstrong, leaning back in the chair, looking like outright royalty in the drab, empty room Riza called home for the past six months. She watched Armstrong lazily take her in, hand draped over the hilt of the sword on her hip, almost amused at the situation. And the fact that Riza had pulled a gun on her.

 

“You should really consider turning the lights on first.” Armstrong said, looking at Riza more curiously now.

 

The sound of her voice almost startled Riza, but she didn’t let it show. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”

 

Armstrong let out an amused scoff and slowly stood up. “I’m using your empty bed for the night. Those disgusting pigs from Central have been following me all day and I’d appreciate it if you let me enjoy some quiet now, Private.”

 

It wasn’t a request.

 

“Of course, sir.”

 

Armstrong eyed Riza for a few more seconds. She slowly nodded, seemingly appeased with Riza’s answer. “At ease, Private.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Riza allowed her hand to fall from its stiff position by her temple. She stayed put for a few more seconds wondering why Armstrong was still staring at her.

 

“I’d like some sheets, Private.”

 

“Right. Yes, sir.” Commands were something Riza could handle. She walked over to the only drawers in the room and pulled out sheets and a pillow case. “Do you want me to-”

 

“I’ve got it.” Armstrong said, taking the sheets from her and making her way to the empty bed in the corner.

 

Riza raised her eyebrows and turned back to her bed. She sat down and began unbuttoning her uniform jacket. When she looked up, she saw Armstrong tucking the sheets under the edges of the thin mattress. Riza untucked her undershirt and sat still for a moment, reveling in the feeling of sitting down after hours of being on her feet. She sighed and got up to hang her jacket up in the closet by her bed. She pulled down her uniform pants and neatly draped them over the lower part of the hanger. When she turned around she saw Armstrong watching her from the other bed. 

 

“Don't stop on my account, Private-” She paused. “What was your name again?”

 

If she was trying to make Riza uncomfortable, it wasn't working. Riza shut the closet door and walked back to her bed. “You never asked me, sir.”

 

“I’m asking you now, aren't I?”

 

“Hawkeye. Riza Hawkeye.”

 

Armstrong flopped her head down on the pillow, bringing an arm up to rest behind her head. “Now that wasn't so hard, was it?”

 

“I thought you wanted some quiet, Major General.”

 

Armstrong scoffed. “You think you're funny.” She turned her head to eye Riza. “Go to sleep, Private Hawkeye.”

 

* * *

 

Riza stifled a yawn as she turned off the alarm clock on the floor by her bed. She looked over to the other bed and found that it was bare. 

 

Interesting.

 

Had Riza dreamt up the entire exchange? She shook her head and sat up in bed. The weak springs below her squeaked in protest. She took a deep breath and stood up, rolling her shoulders as she made her way to the empty bed.

 

The sheets Riza had given Armstrong sat folded in the far corner. How she had woken up before Riza and left without waking her up remained a mystery. Living with her father had made her a light sleeper. Especially when Roy entered their home as a student.

 

Riza slipped on pants and left the room to the communal women’s shower room.

 

Thoughts of the General plagued her the entire time.

 

* * *

 

It took some time but eventually, her commanding officers began to see that her competency was not limited to testing and scores. No mentions of the rooming incident with the General were ever mentioned. Sometimes Riza even doubted it had even happened. She was eventually transferred to a sniping outpost along the top of the wall. The cold was so much worse from this high up but behind her rifle, nothing else registered, least of all the wind. 

 

Her inner turmoil reared its ugly head at every moment of peace. The only thing that kept her anchored was the biting cold and the stark whiteness of snow, which almost made it easier to spot any foreign movement. 

 

She shot down four intruders from Drachma’s side in the first week. She wasn't sure if she'd killed them but her commanding officers told her not to worry about it.

 

* * *

 

After six months of radio silence, Riza stopped expecting Armstrong to show up unannounced in her room. She'd seen the Major General on occasion during squad meetings and duty assignments but nothing in her facial expression betrayed that she even knew who Riza was, aside from being one of her subordinates. 

 

Riza made sure she didn’t give anything away either. When their eyes met on occasion when Armstrong glanced around at everyone, Riza trained herself to focus on nothing. 

 

This woman, the reason she was in Briggs, needed to see that nothing was out of the ordinary. That Riza could be trusted. She knew that she would do anything to protect the Fort. To protect the General.

 

* * *

 

The rank promotions were expected at this point. Riza managed to quickly climb up from Private, to Lance Corporal, to Corporal within the course of a couple of months. Major General Armstrong looking bored as she listed off the new duties and responsibilities each time.

 

Not that Riza minded much. Briggs has become her home and any added responsibility was a welcome change.

 

* * *

 

“Corporal.”

 

Riza was so tired she couldn't even muster the energy to act surprised. A small attack was staged by Drachman forces just hours before. Not large enough for the General to be immediately concerned with, but enough to run Riza ragged. Her trigger finger twitched from overuse.

 

She quickly went into a saluting positing. “Major General, sir.”

 

Armstrong, almost in the same position from more than a year earlier, tapped her fingers on the hilt of her sword idly. “At ease, Corporal Hawkeye. If Major Miles doesn't know where I am, Central has no reason to hound him.”

 

Riza let out a sound of approval and relaxed in place. She walked over to the drawers on the left wall of the cramped room and dug sheets out from the top drawer. Riza handed them over to Armstrong, still seated in the metal chair. She looked almost taken aback but quickly regained footing and took the sheets with the hand not resting on her sword.

 

“Still no roommate?”

 

“No.” Riza said, shrugging her overcoat off and tiredly hanging it up. “Not a large pool of women ready to join Northern command just yet. Or the military really.”

 

Armstrong hummed thoughtfully. “Weaklings.”

 

Riza breathed out a laugh as she began to unbutton her uniform jacket. The shoulder that had been taking full brunt of her rifle’s kickbacks spasmed with pain as her jacket made its way down her arms. A pause, a quick intake of breath, and Riza slowly finished removing the article of clothing.

 

Armstrong made no move to the bed just yet. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at Riza. 

 

Riza turned to hang the jacket up. When she glanced back, Armstrong was up by the spare bed, fixing the sheets. She let out a tired sigh and moved to hang up her uniform pants as well. She did so carefully, as to not aggravate the wrinkled fabric any more. God knows, waking up before the sun came up to iron everything out was enough of a task without the avoidable extra creases.

 

“Do you ever wear pants, Corporal?”

 

Riza didn't turn back to grace the question with her full attention. Armstrong was trying to catch her off guard again. “This is my private room, Major General.”

 

The springs of the other bed squeaked unpleasantly, signalling the fact that Armstrong had lied down. Riza flipped off the light switch by the door and tiredly walked back to her bed. She slowly lied down, joints slightly aching. 

 

Riza was almost nearly asleep when she heard Armstrong speak again. “Don't bother reporting for duty tomorrow. I don't need someone so uselessly tired they can barely walk, let alone hold a gun.” Her voice sounded harsh in the quiet room. Riza listened to the faint sound of wind blowing outside of the room.

 

“Good night, Major General.”

 

* * *

 

Riza woke up to the sound of knocking. She tilted her head to the side. And to an empty spare bed. The sheets had been taken off and folded once again. Her clock read ten in the morning. Riza slowly sat up and pulled on pants. Her shoulder had only become more aggravated with sleep. She sighed and opened the door. 

 

A young private saluted her. “You are being requested at the medical wing, Corporal Hawkeye!”

 

“At ease. For what, may I ask?”

 

“Not sure. But I've been given a direct order from some of the higher ups to tell you.” He said apologetically, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

 

So Armstrong had seen Riza’s injury, even in the dark. Interesting. Riza nodded and thanked him, shutting the door behind her. A shower was in order first.

 

* * *

 

“You took your sweet time, didn't you, Corporal Hawkeye.” The doctor said, shaking her head as Riza walked into the medical wing. “Guess that's what a dislocated shoulder’ll do to you. I’m Doctor Emry.”

 

“Dislocated shoulder?”

 

“Hmm? Well someone updated me on your condition.”

 

Riza had an idea who it was but kept quiet. Doctor Emry gestured for Riza to follow her into the back corner of the wing, where she sectioned the area off with a few curtains.

 

Doctor Emry gently pressed Riza’s shoulder with a few fingers and nodded to herself. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch when I snap it back into place.”

 

Riza nodded and braced herself for the incoming pain. She didn't even flinch when the joint was violently aligned once more. The pain was blinding but ultimately, her shoulder felt looser, movement more in control when she rolled it backwards as per doctor’s orders.

 

“Well that's all. I can give you some painkillers for the time being but you'll be back to work by tomorrow.” 

 

“Thank you doctor.”

 

“Don't thank me, thank whoever the hell's looking out for you.”

 

* * *

 

Riza felt like normal within a few hours of the medical wing visit but she was under strict order to remain off duty. She tried to convince Major Miles but he shook his head and told her to go do something else with her time.

 

She sighed and returned to her room. 

 

* * *

 

The visits were almost nightly now. Armstrong didn't even try to hide it from her each morning; the sheets somehow became a permanent staple of the the spare bed. 

 

Each night progressed in the same way. Armstrong tried to catch her off guard or make her uncomfortable in some sense but Riza never took the bait. It remained firmly in place within her mind that this woman was the fort’s topmost ranking official. The woman she caught prolongedly staring at her on more than one occasion.

 

Not that it bothered Riza.

 

Not that she would admit that to anyone.

 

But most nights she was so tired from her shift she could barely take her boots off. Sometimes she even went to sleep in full uniform, boots and all, but managed to find that they were always off her feet and by the foot of her bed by the time she woke up the next morning.

 

Another interesting development.

 

The fighting on the Drachman side had escalated very quickly in the following months of her injury. She was promoted to Sergeant during this time but it barely made a dent in her duties as sniper. Shoot to kill. No exceptions. A direct command from Central.

 

Armstrong was visibly unhappy with the meddling from Central but didn’t (or couldn’t) voice complaints. Like a good soldier. They were all good soldiers at Briggs. 

 

The cold was a part of Riza’s DNA at this point. Her eyes lost all of their warmth. She could barely recognize herself in passing reflections. The eyes of a killer staring right back at her. Riza sighed and put her arm over her eyes, darkness more welcome than the stark whiteness of her ceiling, reminding her of the vast, empty land on the Drachman side of the wall that she could now call target practice. Blood looked so much more jarring on a freshly fallen blanket of snow.

 

When she wasn't thinking about her sins, she was thinking about the Major General. Perhaps that could be considered another sin in the eyes of upper command.

 

Riza had also gotten used to the of being able to listen to another’s breathing as she fell asleep. A reminder of what she was protecting.

 

“I can hear you thinking from here.”

 

Riza grunted and rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “Sorry, sir.” She heard Armstrong sigh and shift in the small bed.

 

“God damn central needs to keep their fucking bureaucraric hands off of Briggs.” Armstrong grounded out.

 

“Why are they getting so involved?”

 

“Hell if I know. I don't like it. It reeks of something suspicious. Why would Drachma keep sending troops out if we just keep slaughtering them?” 

 

Riza sighed and and rolled over to face Armstrong. “Whatever this is, we don't have a choice do we?”

 

Armstrong laughed. “Of course we don’t. Keep shooting to kill, Sergeant Hawkeye, they'll have you promoted to Major in no time.”

 

Riza swallowed the bile rising in her throat. This isn't what she had wanted. The promotions were coming from central to one of their top murderers. To Riza Hawkeye. What was she doing here?

 

“Hawkeye.” Armstrong said firmly. Riza listened to her take a sharp intake of breath through her nose. “You're a good soldier.” It was like she was reading Riza’s thoughts. 

 

Riza’s voice wearily broke the heavy silence that followed Armstrong’s statement “Is that such a good thing to be, Major General?” 

 

“Good night, Hawkeye.”

 

_ (“Good night, Riza” was on the tip of her tongue.) _

 

* * *

 

As fast as the fighting began, it ended. Drachma sent out it's official declaration of ceasefire, in which central urged the Major General to promptly sign. 

 

With the end of the conflict came the end of Armstrong’s nightly visits. And the end of any chance Riza got for a good night’s sleep. She found herself waking up in a start every hour or so, unused to the absence of Armstrong’s soft breathing a foot away. Her anchor to sanity. Nightmares had plagued her since childhood, but had only grown to be more graphic with each kill she tallied during the border skirmish. She never lost track of the number but she never wanted to think about it. Riza ached for the luxury of knowing that Armstrong was alive whenever her subconscious told her otherwise. 

 

She was drifting in and out of reality. Riza’s mind drifted constantly lately but it always ended up in the same places: to the people she’s killed and to Olivier Armstrong. Her work didn’t suffer but she knew Major Miles was keenly aware of her teetering sanity due to lack of sleep. If she had thought her eyes were devoid of life a few months ago, she didn’t want to see what they looked like now.

 

* * *

 

“Hey- Hawkeye!”

 

Riza’s eyes snapped up at the source of the voice calling her name. Corporal Falman. One of the men recruited at the same time as her. 

 

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for ages-” Falman said, lips turning down slightly. “Usually you’re not like this.”

 

Riza cleared her throat and shifted the food on her tray slowly with a fork. “I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

 

“Well, no shit. Anyone can see that looking at you.” His eyes narrowed as he took a bite of whatever mush was sitting on his plate. “Have you tried going to the medical wing?”

 

“Yes. The sleeping pills they gave me don’t seem to be working.”

 

Falman rubbed his face with his other hand and put it under his chin, resting his elbow on the table. “Do you have any ideas what might be causing this?”

 

“None.” 

 

* * *

 

Riza had taken up wandering the halls of the sleeping quarters to pass time in the dead of night when the things she remembered became too unbearable. Nobody bothered her. She outranked the hallway night guards at this point anyways. 

 

One of the further hallways, filled with unoccupied rooms left the hallways lights almost completely off. Bright moonlight filtered in through the window at the end of the hall. Riza found herself spending most of her nights watching snow flurry past the window, sitting with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pressed tightly to her chest.

 

A month in to her nightly ritual she heard soft footsteps approaching. She didn’t have to look up to know who it was standing on the other end of the hall. Long shadows stretched out, nearly touching her bare feet. She stared down at the floor.

 

“You’re becoming more useless by the day, Sergeant.” Armstrong’s voice snapped.

 

Riza clenched her jaw together. Swallowing down the hurt that resulted from that comment. 

 

Armstrong’s footsteps went up in volume the closer she got to Riza. Her shadow now fully encasing Riza. Then she stopped.

 

“Look at me.” 

 

The break in Armstrong’s voice is what surprised her the most. Riza quickly looked up at her commanding officer. Her hair reflected the pale moonlight streaming from the window, almost looking a ghostly white. She made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Armstrong’s eyes mirrored her own. Bleak and empty. Riza let out a shuddering sigh. 

 

“Fix this.”

 

_ I can’t.  _ “How?”

 

_ I can’t say it.  _ “I don’t know.”

 

Riza slowly stood up, back sliding up the wall. She watched Armstrong’s eyes track the movement. Her jaw remained clenched. She decided to take the leap, as small as it was, and hoped Armstrong would follow.

 

She turned around and walked back to her room. Riza held her breath, listening for the familiar foot pattern behind her. For what felt like hours but was more realistically a few seconds, the only sound was Riza’s feet striking the cold concrete. The sound Armstrong’s booted step followed close behind much to Riza’s relief.

 

She unlocked the door, the smoothest her fingers have worked in a long time, and left the door open behind her. Another offering.

 

An offering that was taken. The door closed softly behind Armstrong.

 

“We won’t speak of this.”

 

Riza found herself nodding. She wanted the same but knew that she’d agree to any of Armstrong’s terms if she could go back to sleeping almost every night.

 

“You may call me Olivier.” She said it so quietly, Riza had almost missed it. But it was unmistakable. In this drab, cold room, the very nature of their relationship had be turned upside down.

 

Riza swallowed. She wanted to sound it out, never thought to speak the name aloud before this very second. “Olivier.” She heard the other woman suck in a breath. “Riza.” It was an invitation. Riza wanted to hear her say her name.

 

“Riza.”

 

Their eyes found one anothers’. Olivier had acknowledged the shift as well.

 

Riza broke the moment by moving to take out the spare sheets from her drawer. She knew this was as far as anything would go tonight. They knew what they wanted but they were also prideful women. No amount of insomnia could change that. She handed the sheets to Armstrong who got to work, fixing the spare bed. Riza closed her eyes for a few seconds, just taking a moment to breath before going about taking off her uniform and carefully hanging it up like she did every night.

 

Riza turned around and found that Olivier was doing the same with her uniform, using the hanger on the back of the door. Her eyes trailed along Olivier’s form and she sighed quietly, walking to her bed. She lied down and turned her head to watch as Olivier did the same.

 

Their eyes made contact when Olivier had settled down, flannel cover still billowing after she flung it to cover her legs. 

 

The whisper of the wind blowing just outside of the room was the loudest sound in the room. And their breathing.

 

Olivier’s breathing.

 

Riza allowed her eyes to close for a moment, focusing on the sound.

 

“Riza.”

 

Her eyes snapped open. Olivier was looking at her intensely.

 

“Yes?” Riza said, almost wincing at the sound of her tired voice slightly cracking in the silence.

 

“Try not to snore. I haven't slept in months.”

 

Riza's eyes narrowed sharply. “I don't snore.”

 

Olivier barked out a laugh. “Yes you do.” A beat of silence followed. “Don't worry. I've gotten used to it.”

 

Riza swallowed down the words that were trying to bubble out.

 

_ I missed you.  _

 

Instead she just let the room become submerged in silence once more. Olivier didn't say anything but Riza knew they were both content with the lack of words exchanged. 

 

She listened to Olivier’s breathing even out with slumber and Riza's exhaustion finally won her over. She shifted the blankets to cover her shoulders and shut her eyes, welcoming the sound of Olivier's soft breathing anchoring her just a foot away. 

 

“Good night, Olivier.”


End file.
